Page 1 of Offsides

Chapter One

“It’s Saturday afternoon in the city of our Lord, Atlanta, Georgia. The sun is shining, the gang’s all here, and no matter what is going on out there—in here there is only one thing that matters. It’s match day, y’all!” Britt “Cowboy” Callahan declared as he walked into the owner’s suite at Pemberton Stadium.

Excitement rushed through his veins as he glanced around the luxury suite in the brand-new stadium. Every surface inside the suite seemed to shine, polished and ready for the event ahead. Cowboy loved matchday. Actually, he loved everything about the sport of football—or soccer as his fellow Americans called it. To him, there was no better feeling than being in the presence of the beautiful game.

“You’re still saying that, huh?” Keaton Alexander, former teammate from the US Men’s National Team and current Atlanta Rising guest asked with a laugh.

“You don’t fix what ain’t broken.”

“It’s only weird if it doesn’t work, right?”

“Exactly,” Cowboy agreed, walking over to the window and looking out over the pitch. There was nothing quite like the view from the owner’s box. Except for maybe the one from the pitch. Midfield to be exact.

Inhaling deeply, Cowboy smiled as the ref blew the whistle, signaling the start of the game. The roar of the crowd surrounded him like a warm, welcoming blanket. If there was a heaven, Cowboy was pretty sure this what it sounded like. As technical director for the hottest sports team in town—the Atlanta Rising Football Club—Cowboy was living the dream. He’d spent four years playing for Liverpool FC, before returning to the US to play another five seasons in San Diego. With seventy-six caps to the US Men’s National Team and a spot in the Hall of Fame, he had more than enough to be proud of. But even after retiring from playing, he knew he wanted to stay involved with the game. When the call came from the Atlanta Rising, it was like the skies had opened up and delivered the perfect life on a silver platter. The fact that one of his best friends, Gunnar Gracin, was the head coach made that dream even sweeter.

“So, tell me, like what you see?” Cowboy asked Keaton, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“Clearly you know just how impressive this club is,” Keaton answered, gesturing toward the pitch. The two had known each other for a long time, and when Cowboy heard that Keaton’s name was being tossed around for the open role of team president, he had agreed that the man had the potential to be a good fit. Seeing him here, though, made it feel like a good fit too. “State-of-the-art everything— from this stadium to that beautiful training facility. Not to mention the team you’ve fielded. The league has certainly never seen anything quite like this.”

Pride surged through Cowboy at his former teammate’s words. The league hadn’t ever seen anything like the Atlanta Rising—there was no doubt about that. They were only a few months into their inaugural season and had already been labeled the most successful expansion team ever. And that was something he and his counterparts were damn proud of. They had worked hard to build this organization to stand out, and their hard work was paying off.

“That’s been the goal since day one. Felicity is a lot more than just a pretty face,” Cowboy said, nodding over to where Felicity Sutherland, Atlanta Rising’s owner, was standing.

“Although she is certainly a looker.”

“She’s also the biggest ballbuster I know. If you hadn’t already figured it out during this interview process, she’s a tough cookie. She takes no shit from anyone and has no problem putting people in their place. In fact, she’s really good at that last part.”

“Good to know.”

“She’s also Gunnar’s,” Cowboy told him with a wink. The two were a pair that Cowboy would have never seen coming, yet somehow they worked. They brought out the best in each other, and he’d never seen either of them happier.

“It’s a hell of a view up here,” Keaton said, changing the topic.

“I actually prefer the one from the pitch. It’s a totally different experience down there.”

A giggle rang out, reverberating off the furniture, as if playing through surround sound, drowning Keaton out. It was sweet, like a familiar melody he couldn’t get enough of, sending a shiver up his spine. Fighting the urge to look around the room to locate where it was coming from, Cowboy zoned in on his guest.

“You usually spend games down there? That’s unique. Most TDs I know are up here or in their own suite somewhere,” Keaton commented.

“I’m not most TDs,” Cowboy said with a laugh, turning back toward his former teammate. “My job is the product you see on the pitch. Those players, the coaches, and trainers. Best way for me to know the pulse of what’s going on is to be down there during games. Not up here with a beer in my hand.”

Keaton nodded, seeming to understand his point. That simple gesture sent a wave of relief through Cowboy. If they were going to work together in tandem—Cowboy managing the actual soccer side of things while Keaton handled the business portion—then they needed to be in agreement about how all this would run.

Like a siren song in the middle of the ocean, that giggle rang out again, calling to Cowboy. This time though, he was unable to fight the urge to turn toward it. Thankfully, he didn’t need to look far. Standing at the far corner of the suite, looking out over the pitch, was the creature responsible for making the hair on his arms stand up. For more than one reason.

Theodosia Kappas.

What is she doing up here?

Theodosia—who went by Theo—had caught his attention from the very first moment he’d seen her at one of the Rising’s first open practices. He’d had no idea who she was, just that he was unable to take his eyes off her. It had quickly become very clear though that who she was didn’t really matter. Because she was off-limits.

Not that Theo had done anything, per se. But she was a reporter. And nothing good ever came from involving reporters.

Still, Cowboy was inexplicably drawn to her. There was just something about her that made it impossible to look away. Maybe it was the serious expression on her face, or the fact that she always stood in the back of the media room, acting like she was Queen Bee, simply waiting on whatever all her little workers brought her.

Whatever it was, it got to Cowboy in a way nothing, and no one, else ever had. And he didn’t like it.

Just look away…just look away…